


Almost Made It

by shepardly



Series: Nate 'n MacCready [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Blood, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepardly/pseuds/shepardly
Summary: Nate (m!SS) knows how to take care of himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need someone to watch his back. MacCready is one of the best and is up to the challenge, but an ambush during a standard scavenging run leaves the pair scrambling.Pre-relationship whump fest, taking place a fair ways into the main plot of the game so beware: spoilers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to this particular ship, so to anyone who hasn't read my works before: I'm all about the whump but I always put the characters back where I found them. NO major character death, I promise.

MacCready trailed behind the boss, scanning the buildings around them, rifle ready as he watched their six. To his credit, Nate was actually keeping an eye out as well, although he was far too easily distracted in MacCready’s opinion. The man would be paying attention one moment, and the next be across the street rifling through a newspaper stand or kicking a Nuka Cola machine. To be fair, he had proven time and again that he was more than capable of watching out for himself, which was the only reason why MacCready bit his tongue with a sigh when he glanced ahead and saw him rummaging through a trash can. He slowed and came to a stop a few feet away, still scanning the area.

Downtown Boston had never been his favourite place. Sure, Goodneighbor made a great spot to set up while drumming up business, but the towering, crumbling buildings always kept him on edge. The buildings had managed to stand for over 200 years on their own, but they crumbled more and more every day. This particular area, with its massive blue steel buildings, was particularly unnerving. With his luck, one of them would choose to crumple on his head, which was why he'd rather steer clear as much as possible. Convincing the Sole Survivor of that, however, was a battle he'd never choose to start.

“Ah-ha!” Nate emerged triumphantly, holding a lightbulb up as well as something else clasped in his fist. MacCready rolled his eyes.

“Just don't make me carry that worthless crap.” He grumbled. 

“Hey, that worthless crap is going to help me finish that generator at Hangman’s Alley.” Nate said defensively as he tucked the bulb into his pack. “I can't believe how hard it can be to find copper some days. Here, maybe this will make it more worth it to you.”

He tossed the other item in his hand to MacCready, who automatically caught it and inspected the five caps before pocketing them without saying anything. 

“You're welcome.” Nate said obnoxiously when he realized MacCready wasn't going to say anything more. MacCready glared at him before resuming his scanning. “Sheesh, Mac, I think you can relax a little. We just came this way a few days ago, I highly doubt anyone has taken up residence again.”

“You might be surprised.” MacCready stubbornly kept his vigil despite that not being the issue at all, casting a concerned eye upwards when something creaked ominously in the breeze.

Nate resumed walking down the street with a roll of his eyes, although MacCready caught him looking back a few times.

“It's the buildings, isn't it?” Nate broke the quiet sometime later. MacCready felt his shoulders and spine stiffen, hoped Nate didn't notice. Nate was more intuitive than he usually let on, which meant that now that he had chosen to bring the topic up he wouldn't let it go easily.

“Yeah.” MacCready finally admitted after a few more steps. At least he wasn't the one to start the conversation about it. “Watched a chunk of one come down when I first came to the Commonwealth. Made me realize how little you can do if you wind up too close when one decides to let go.”

“Huh.” Nate looked up at the towering metal buildings on either side of them with new eyes. “That's… sobering.”

“Two hundred years of rad storms raining on metal…” MacCready kicked a chunk of rusty metal in the street. “Makes you wonder how they're standing at all.”

A few blocks later they were back in the streets with brick buildings, still towering in their own rights but not blocking out nearly as much sky.

“You know, I've suddenly decided to leave those big metal buildings alone unless we really need to go in there.” Nate suddenly announced. “Totally unrelated to earlier conversations.”

MacCready scoffed, a grin creeping onto his face as some of his earlier tension bled out of his shoulders. 

“What, you scared of a two hundred year old ticking time bomb all of a sudden?”

“Shockingly, yeah.” Nate nonchalantly flipped open a dumpster, admirably only flinching mildly at the smell it emitted. “Hey, so I have everything I need to finish up at Hangman’s Alley tonight, so would you want to hit up Diamond City before we-”

Something thumped MacCready’s chest, hard, and he looked down, startled. A large, rusty meat hook protruded from his right shoulder, with a chain trailing over and behind his shoulder. A strong pull on the chain yanked him off his feet, embedding the hook deeper into his flesh, but his scream was more from shock than pain.

He caught a glimpse of Nate whirling, just in time to take a powerfist to the head. Blood sprayed, and he dropped bonelessly. The raider leader that had attacked Nate, decked out in cage armour and pieces scavenged from rusting power armour, viciously kicked Nate’s motionless form where he lay on the ground.

MacCready had somehow hung on to his rifle, and managed to get off the shot of a lifetime despite the hook in his shoulder. The raider leader dropped without a sound when the bullet tore through his skull, and cries of outrage from what seemed like all around rang out, raiders pouring out of buildings. How they had managed to stay still and quiet enough to fool Nate’s Pip Boy, MacCready couldn't even begin to guess.

The chain yanked at the hook again, dragging him across the ground, and his scream was definitely one of pain this time. The agony lit him up from the inside, somehow hot and cold at the same time. He grabbed at the hook with his left hand- belatedly realizing he had dropped his rifle- just in time for another yank that pulled him upright until he was dangling with his boots a few feet off the ground.

“You sonovabitch!” A raider came roaring up, swinging her bat at his legs. “You killed Rake! I can't believe you killed him!”

MacCready could only dangle helplessly, clutching the hook as he swung and spun on the chain, trying but mostly failing to stifle his screams. 

“C’mon, Mags.” MacCready dimly heard on of the raiders say to the one currently pummelling his legs. “They're setting up for a vote already.”

“DAMMIT!” The raider swung one last time, and MacCready could have sworn he heard something crack that time. “We’ll be back, asshole.”

The raiders trailed away, muttering to themselves, and after hearing a few slams the street was suddenly quiet again, save for the creak of the chain as he continued swaying in the breeze.

MacCready squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before craning his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Nate. He was still sprawled as though all his strings had been cut, deathly still. 

“Boss.” MacCready tried to call, voice completely wrecked. “C’mon. _Nate!_ ”

There wasn't even a twitch in response.

MacCready tightened his grip on the hook, preparing for an attempt to pull himself up and off, and kicked at the air with his legs for extra momentum. Metal scraped bone somewhere inside him, and the pain was blinding, whiting out his vision. By the time he came to, his blood slicked fingers clung uselessly to the hook, his entire weight hanging from his shoulder now. He tightened his grip, taking a bit of pressure off his shoulder. It wasn't enough. 

A gust of wind blew his hat off his head, and it tumbled across the pavement before coming to a stop against Nate’s motionless form.

 _Abandoned even by my own hat,_ MacCready thought, somewhat hysterically. He was beginning to realize that he was going to die here, strung up as another gory raider wall decoration. Nate was already dead or dying. No one knew where they were, and if it took too long their bodies would be too far gone for identification. MacCready stifled a sob, feeling his grip on the hook slip at about the same rate as his grip on consciousness. 

_I'm sorry, Duncan. I'm so, so sorry._

The darkness dragged him down, but there was no hiding from the agony in his shoulder. Time passed in fits, bursts of awareness and too bright light amongst the stretches of silent pain-filled dark. He suddenly felt weightless, but he didn't have time to wonder what it meant before he was crashing to the ground, skull bouncing painfully off the pavement.

“Oh, God.” Nate’s voice was hoarse, stricken. Macready couldn't remember why it was so surprising to hear his voice. “ _MacCready._ ”

Fumbling hands pawed at his throat, searching for his pulse. MacCready distantly wondered if he was dreaming, but the stinging new pain from his backside up to the top of his head suggested that he had, in fact, been dropped to the ground. He peeled heavy eyelids open to see a frantic looking boss over him, a sheet of blood down one side of his face and head, hair gummed up on that side with dirt and blood.

“MacCready, oh _shit_ , oh this is bad…” Nate was rambling, looking strung out, dazed. “I don't… I can't unhook the chain, I gotta…They took my pack, I don't have _anything_...”

“It's okay.” MacCready croaked, trying to reassure him despite it not being okay. It hurt to talk, it hurt to breathe. “Just- just yank it out, quick.”

Nate fumbled at his neck again, pulling his scarf off and twisting it. MacCready gratefully bit down on the material when it was offered, and gave a shaky nod for Nate to go ahead.

The first tug made the hook scrape on bone again. MacCready arched on the ground, scream muffled by the scarf, tears springing unbidden to his eyes. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” Nate sounded far away. “I need to- Here, I've got it.”

A long, steady pull and the hook came sliding free with a squelch. MacCready spat the scarf out and Nate seemed to understand, helping him roll onto his side so he could heave what little remained in his stomach onto the ground. When he was done, Nate rolled him onto his back again and placed a wadded up bunch of material against the wound in his shoulder. 

“Here, hold it there, like this.” Nate ordered, forcing MacCready’s stiff right arm to bend at the elbow to hold the material at his right shoulder. “Okay, hang on to that while we sit you up.”

Getting upright nearly made MacCready pass out, but he managed to cling to consciousness, breathing hard and willing away the greyness that encroached on his vision. Nate grabbed the scarf off the ground and wrapped it under MacCready’s armpit and over his shoulder on top of his clothes, effectively tying his hand over the bandage and wound, then used his own scarf to wrap around his upper chest, snugging his folded right arm against his torso while leaving his left free.

“Where- where's my rifle?” MacCready cast about for it, feeling naked without a weapon. 

“They took it, along with my stuff.” Nate anxiously explained, fussing over the makeshift bandage/splint. As mad as MacCready was about losing his gun, he couldn't claim to be surprised. “We don't have time to get your shirt off and bandage your shoulder properly right now. Do you think you can stand?” 

“I think my leg’s fu- uh, messed up.” MacCready admitted with a hiss of pain when he tried to move his left leg. The raider with the bat hadn't held back her swings at all, and he was feeling it now. Nate didn't bother trying to remove the material from his leg, gently probing with his fingers instead. The worst was at his knee, but the skin seemed intact and MacCready didn't think it was broken. Without stimpacks or Med-X there was nothing they could really do about either of their injuries.

“I don't think I can carry you,” Nate sounded apologetic, “but we have to get out of here. I'll help you walk.”

“What about you?” MacCready weakly protested. “You're bleeding.”

“I'll be fine, head wounds just look messy.” Nate slid under MacCready’s left arm, and with a massive effort they managed to get to their feet. MacCready stood swaying for a moment, leaning heavily on Nate, and tentatively tried to put weight on his left leg. Pain sliced through his knee and up to his hip, ripping a yelp from him before he could stop it. He was rethinking his prognosis of his knee not being broken. 

“Just lean on me.” Nate murmured. “Don't put any weight on it.”

They only made a few shuffling, hopping steps down the street before MacCready realized the hopelessness of their situation.

“We’re never gonna make it, boss.” He gasped out painfully. “You need to leave me.”

“Not happening, MacCready.” Nate grunted, forcing them onwards. 

“I'm serious, we're not going to get anywhere at this rate.”

“Only if you keep whining and don't keep moving.” Nate had his stubborn face on, so MacCready gave up and put all of his energy into limping alongside him.

“MacCready?” Nate asked what seemed like hours later. MacCready blinked, feeling like his head was in a fog.

“Yeah, boss?” MacCready tried to split his attention between listening and walking, which was requiring more brain power than he cared to admit.

“How the _fuck_ did _raiders_ get the drop on us?” 

MacCready was startled into a giggle despite the situation, but the sound of his own laugh caught him off guard. Was he delirious? He cast a sidelong glance at Nate and saw he had noticed too.

“I- I dunno.” MacCready admitted after gathering his wits as best as possible. “Seemed like… they were waiting.”

“I was getting that impression as well.” Nate steered them towards a ruined building. “Let's take a break.”

“Is that a good idea?” MacCready looked over his shoulder in the direction they had come from, and was relieved that they had lost sight of the raider territory. “I doubt they'll be happy to see their new gate decorations missing.”

“Gross.” Nate wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, I hate raiders. I think we're far enough away to rest for a few minutes though.”

MacCready wasn't going to protest too vehemently against it. His muscles were trembling with the effort of staying upright, and a chance to sit down sounded like the best idea he had heard in a while. Nate helped him hobble through a busted doorway, and they found a metal bench half buried in rubble inside where they collapsed gratefully.

MacCready leaned his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh. 

“You doing okay?” Nate worriedly asked.

“Yeah.” MacCready wearily opened his eyes and took in his partner’s condition. “You?”

“Yeah.” Nate echoed. “Hell of a headache, but I think I'll live. Good thing I have such a thick skull.”

MacCready smirked at the bad joke as he inspected Nate’s head for himself. He had a black eye developing under the blood dried on his face, and it looked like the bruise extended up into his hairline. There was a cut where it looked like the skin had simply split under pressure that ran from his temple to just above his ear that made MacCready shudder. The blood all over his face and head was mostly dried by now, the split skin only glistening in a few places with fresh drops. 

“You're lucky to be alive.” He informed Nate. “If he had hit you any differently… I really thought you were a goner.”

“Yeah well, opening my eyes to see you strung up like the world’s scrawniest piñata was no treat either.” Nate said glumly, trying to check the state of the bandage under MacCready’s bound hand without moving anything. “Oh yeah, here's your hat. I don't know how I ended up with it.”

“Thanks.” MacCready gratefully put his dusty hat on, strangely feeling better. “The fu- heck is a piñata?”

“You know, the thing you hang at kids birthday parties, everyone takes a swing to bash the candy out of it?” Nate looked up at MacCready’s baffled expression and sighed. “Never mind. How's the pain?”

“About the same.” MacCready blatantly lied. His leg and shoulder were throbbing, the pain a living entity, but there was nothing they could do about it now. “I'm more mad about having to mend my jacket, _again_.”

Nate grinned uncertainly, clearly not convinced, but didn't press the matter.

They both suddenly froze when they heard shouts in the distance.

“Oh, shit.” Nate whispered, and then they were scrambling.

“What do we do?” MacCready whispered back, trying not to panic. They were _raiders_ , for Pete’s sake. This shouldn't have even been a problem, but there was no way he could run or fight in his state, and Nate wasn't much better off.

“We’re gonna hide.” Nate grimly decided. MacCready blanched, but couldn't deny that it was likely their best option. Nate hauled him to his feet and made sure they hadn't left any fresh blood smears anywhere before they hobbled further into the bombed out building.

“Here, we'll hide under here.” Nate gestured with his chin towards a slab of cement that had fallen in such a way that it was propped against the wall. MacCready started to protest- they would be killed if the slab broke or slid anymore- but another, closer shout out in the street told him they didn't have any more time. They ducked down and Nate scrambled in. Crawling was awkward with one arm and his bad knee protested the abuse, but MacCready did the best he could. Nate managed to get mostly turned around in the narrow space and helped drag him in further, and they went still, listening.

Footsteps padded by, and voices spoke alarmingly close. MacCready breathed as slowly and quietly as possible. Rubble dug into his shoulders uncomfortably, but he didn't dare to move.

After what seemed like an hour, but what was likely closer to ten minutes, the sounds faded away. 

Nate breathed a sigh of relief.

“We better be careful.” MacCready whispered before Nate could move. “If they were smart enough to ambush us, they might be smart enough to leave someone behind to watch for us climbing out of our hidey hole.”

Nate cursed under his breath.

“You're right.” Nate sighed eventually. “We better hang tight for a bit.”

MacCready dared to shift, moving until the rocks weren't so uncomfortable beneath him, and they went quiet again; waiting, listening.

Nate moved sometime later, startling MacCready out of a doze he hadn't realized he had fallen into. He blinked at the ceiling that was uncomfortably close to his face, groggily gathering his bearings. It was nearly pitch black, only a faint glimmer of light left of the day. 

“Mac?” Nate whispered. MacCready hummed in response, too tired to find his voice. “I'm cold.”

MacCready considered this. His own body was sending signals that he was chilled, tremors running down his spine and limbs, but he was bone weary and pretty sure he could ignore it. However, it sounded like Nate couldn't. Mind made up, MacCready managed to roll onto his left shoulder, facing Nate, trying to get close enough to share their body warmth. Obviously taking this as permission, Nate slid his arm under MacCready’s neck and pulled him closer with the other, until MacCready’s face was close to Nate’s neck, bodies pressed together.

MacCready briefly considered complaining about the manhandling, but decided that the added warmth he was getting was worth it. He painfully shuffled his bum leg into a slightly more comfortable position before giving up on the lost cause.

“Mac, you okay?” Nate still sounded worried. MacCready hummed out another affirmative, sleep pulling at him even more.

“RJ.” MacCready dimly heard himself say. He frowned to himself. Why had he said that?

“What?”

Well, he was in it now. Might as well follow through.

“Call me… RJ.” He knew he was probably muffled against Nate’s neck, but he seemed to be listening closely. “Robert… Joseph. MacCready.”

Nate pulled MacCready closer, tightening his hug. MacCready felt himself drifting off again, despite the cold and pain, until he realized Nate was barely suppressing what could only be glee.

“Get it out of your system.” MacCready grouched.

“Are you telling me your name is _Bobby Joe_ MacCready?” Nate crowed, albeit quietly. “This is- well, I wish I could say this is the best day of my life- but oh, this is so good-”

“Okay, shut up now.” MacCready growled, trying to sound intimidating despite feeling weak as a newborn. “I knew I shouldn't have told you.”

“Probably.” Nate admitted. “Why did you?”

MacCready attempted to shrug without thinking, groaned at the pain it caused, felt a shudder run through him. His head was swimming.

“Get some rest, Mac- uh, RJ.” Nate sounded apologetic. “I'll take the first watch.”

“What about you?” MacCready asked drowsily, eyes sliding shut already. “You need sleep too.”

“I'll be fine.” Nate assured him. “Just sleep.”

MacCready knew he should press the matter, but sleep sounded like a great idea right then. Before he could say anything more, MacCready fell right into a dead sleep.

***


	2. Chapter 2

***

Something woke MacCready, slowly lifting him out of a fog, and it took him a moment to remember where he was. He tried to move, limbs stirring, bringing a moan bubbling from his chest. A hand clamped over his mouth, making him snap startled eyes open. Nate was barely visible in the darkness, but his eyes were wide, his face pale. He held a finger over his lips, and MacCready focused on getting his breathing under control, feeling like his heartbeat was loud enough to be heard by anyone passing by.

Footsteps could be heard _in_ the ruined building they were hiding in. MacCready froze, muscles locked as his brain tried to decide between fight or flight; not that he'd be able to do either very effectively at the moment. 

The footsteps faded away, and both Nate and MacCready slowly released the breaths they had been holding, Nate moving his hand from over his mouth. MacCready squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the world from spinning around him.

“RJ, you okay?” Nate seemed to have taken to the new nickname quickly, MacCready dimly noted. Nate laid a hand across his forehead for a moment before smoothing his hair back, making him realize that his hat had gone AWOL again. “You've got a fever.”

MacCready tried to open his eyes again without much success. He furrowed his brow, breath escaping in a weak huff.

Nate rolled him onto his back, and MacCready mourned the loss of warmth, unable to suppress a shiver that ran through him. His awareness faded in and out, but he vaguely felt Nate untying the scarves, freeing his right arm. It felt stiff from disuse, and a whimper escaped him as Nate gently laid it flat. His eyes decided to cooperate then, slowly blinking open.

“There you are.” Nate smoothed a hand over his forehead again. “How you feeling?”

Considering he didn't think he could even sit up, MacCready figured he'd better be honest.

“Not-” MacCready’s breath wheezed; he cleared his throat and tried again, “Not too good, boss.”

“I'm just going to check the bandage.” Nate told him. “Let me know if I'm hurting you.”

He gently peeled back the fabric, which was starting to stick to the wound. It hurt, but the pain paled in comparison to what was already going on in his shoulder and knee so MacCready said nothing. A grim look came over Nate’s face when he saw the wound, and he placed the bandage back over it after a moment.

“That's it.” Nate quietly announced, pulling MacCready’s left hand up to hold the bandage before he started to crawl backwards out of their hiding spot. “I need to find supplies.”

“Wait- wait!” MacCready gasped out, feeling like things were moving too quickly for him. Nate paused, pressing a hand into his, grounding him.

“You- you can't go out there- alone.” MacCready didn't know why he was so short of breath, but it was starting to annoy him. “You need- someone- watch your six.”

“You're right.” Nate said quietly, squeezing his hand. “That's why I need to go. I won't go far. I'll be back soon, RJ. Just hang on.”

He managed to squirm out of their hiding spot without jostling MacCready too badly, and then he was gone. MacCready felt the loss keenly, panic building in his chest, but he was helpless to do anything but wait.

The wound in his shoulder was throbbing, and he could feel the flush of fever creeping across his chest as well as his face. He considered trying to look at his wound to see what had alarmed Nate so badly, but decided it wasn't worth the effort in the end. He hoped Nate wouldn't need to go far, maybe get lucky with an unlooted bathroom mirror in the very building they were in. With Nate’s luck, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. 

Despite his pain and anxiety, MacCready could feel the pull of sleep again, threatening to pull him under. His eyes slid closed…

… only to pop right open again as a rough hand latched around his ankle. He sucked in a startled breath, just before he was roughly yanked out from under the cement slab. A scream of pain tore from him. Of _course_ they had dragged him out by his bad leg, sending lightning bolts of pain shooting up and down his leg. 

Hoots and jeers finally reached him through the roaring noise in his ears, and MacCready weakly tried to push himself into a sitting position. It was still night, but the raiders held enough torches and lamps to blind him with the sudden brightness. A boot to the chest sent him back down to the ground, wheezing and clutching at the wound in his shoulder.

“Well, we found the latest ornament.” One of the raiders remarked, placing his boot on MacCready’s chest and leaning in until MacCready could feel his ribs creak. “Where's the other one?”

MacCready gasped for air, feebly trying to push the boot off his chest. He couldn't find enough air for words, and so spat instead. It was a pathetic attempt, barely splattering on the boot right in front of his face, but the intent was plain enough. The raider’s face twisted in anger, and he pressed further. MacCready couldn't help the scream as something _snapped_ inside his chest, before it really, _really_ started to hurt to breathe.

“Look, I'll take it easy on you if you just cooperate.” The raider continued conversationally. “I know that was the Sole Survivor you were travelling with. Rake wouldn't know his own mother from his backside, but I recognized him. You tell me where he is, and I'll let you go.”

“Over my dead body.” MacCready scoffed, even as he marvelled at the truth in his words. When had that happened? When had Nate won over his loyalty so completely?

 _Probably when he put that medicine for Duncan in your hands,_ his brain helpfully supplied, _but the deal was definitely sealed when Daisy gave you that letter with crayon scribbled in the margins._

The raider leaned even harder, and something gave way in his chest. MacCready would have screamed again if he had the breath, but it came out as a choked gasp.

“Oops.” The raider didn't sound apologetic. “You still have time. I can hit you with a stimpack or two and send you on your way.”

MacCready feebly pushed at the boot again before he subsided, absolutely spent. Breathing was agony, but the closer to passing out he got the more his body hijacked the necessary systems and forced his lungs to take rapid, shallow breaths. Through blurred vision, MacCready could see the raider wave a stimpack tauntingly in front of his face. He closed his eyes, both to show his refusal and simply because he was tired. The welcoming darkness pulled at him, and he knew he wouldn't be coming back from it this time.

He wished he had said more to Nate. Told him how much it all meant to him. How much… how much he had meant to him. He regretted not bringing it up, but now it was for the better. He still had a letter in his breast pocket meant for Duncan; he hoped Nate found it and sent it along. 

There was so much to do, and not enough time.

A gunshot rang out. MacCready flinched, positive it was meant for him, but life continued on. More shots rang out, raiders shouted, the pressure left his chest. A cough tore itself from him, and he tasted blood. MacCready peeled blurry eyes open and watched fuzzy shapes moving over and around him, muzzle flares blinding. Eventually, the firefight died down, and Nate was suddenly there, falling to his knees and hauling his upper body up into his arms.

“MacCready!” Nate sounded panicked. “C’mon, RJ, look at me.”

MacCready managed to focus on Nate’s face, trying and mostly failing to blink away the blurriness. He coughed again and something hot bubbled up his throat and spilled down his chin. Nate cursed, fumbling with something out of his line of vision, and then he felt a prick at his neck and heard the familiar hiss of a stimpack releasing its contents.

A few seconds later something popped in his chest, making him shudder and arch with a gasp, but Nate held him steady.

“It's okay, just relax, let it do its thing.” Nate murmured. MacCready tried to do as he said, tried to force his muscles to relax, but he felt his ribs practically ripple under his skin as they knitted together, making him thrash once more before he was able to fall still. Breathing was slowly becoming easier, and by the time the effects of the stimpack wore off he was able to draw a full breath without much pain. Nate continued holding him as he sucked in huge lungfuls of air, his body convinced he had just run a marathon.

“What- what did-” MacCready gasped, grabbing handfuls of Nate’s jacket and clinging to him like a lifeline. He couldn't figure out what had happened, what Nate had done, what they should do now, thoughts flying a mile a minute yet getting him nowhere.

“It's okay, RJ. Just relax. We've got a few minutes, we're gonna get you patched up.” Nate pulled another stimpack from his pocket and went to administer it to MacCready’s neck again, but MacCready caught his wrist to stop him.

“How many of those did you find?” MacCready rasped while searching Nate’s face. The bruise on his face and forehead had darkened even more, the cut looked like it was bleeding again, and he seemed to be favouring his left side now.

“Enough.” Nate said evasively, trying to pry MacCready’s fingers off his wrist, but he hung on stubbornly and gave him a _look_. “Okay, sheesh, I found two stimpacks. You need them both, and then another one or two when I find my stuff.”

MacCready was already shaking his head. Nate may be stubborn and fairly good at hiding injuries, but MacCready could see that he needed to be treated ASAP.

“You take it.” He croaked, his throat feeling like he had been gargling gravel. “They go further for you, anyway.”

“MacCready…”

“I mean it.” MacCready insisted. “I'll be fine until we reach a settlement. We can't have both of us staggering around, walking wounded.”

Nate still looked reluctant. MacCready settled it by grabbing the stimpack and stabbing it into Nate’s neck.

“Ow! What the hell!” Nate looked offended, but it was already too late. The nasty cut on his head quickly knitted itself back together, the bruise faded, and the crease between his eyebrows faded away as what had to be a blinding headache eased. He closed his eyes and sighed, obviously in relief, but MacCready knew he'd probably hear more about that trick later.

After a moment, Nate opened his eyes to fix a glare on MacCready. MacCready managed to quirk an innocent grin.

“I suppose you're wanting to be carried out of here now.” Nate griped, although his tone had all teasing and no annoyance in it. 

“Why don't you just call your own personal vertibird instead?” MacCready ribbed as he actually managed to sit up with Nate’s help, and was quite proud of himself for staying there with only minimal wobbling. 

“Might need to, to help haul your fat ass around.” Nate threw back easily. 

“Hey, you were just bi- uh, nagging at me yesterday to eat more.” MacCready complained as he took stock of himself. His knee and his shoulder still ached, but the pain wasn't as pressing anymore. He slid his left hand under his shirt and makeshift bandage and carefully probed his right shoulder; the wound from the meat hook was still there but barely bleeding. Nate took over, first aid skills kicking in, and MacCready soon found himself with a redone bandage on his shoulder, a makeshift scarf-sling for his right arm to limit the movement on that side, and a left knee bound with material that Nate had scavenged off a raider.

“I think our scarves are done for.” MacCready glumly noted, fingering a drying blood stain on Nate’s scarf that was serving as his sling.

“I'll get you a new one.” Nate promised. “You ready?”

MacCready wrapped his left arm around Nate’s neck and gritted his teeth in preparation before nodding. Nate all but lifted him to set him on his feet, but MacCready’s head still spun, vision blacking out for a few seconds.

“You okay?” Nate looked alarmed, but MacCready just shakily nodded.

“Yeah.” He breathed. “Just… head rush.”

“Yeah, okay, you've just earned the Nate-as-a-crutch achievement.” Nate informed him. “No ifs, ands, or buts.”

It was awkward, what with Nate being a couple inches taller than MacCready, but they managed to move much more quickly and easily than the evening before. MacCready’s ears rang and he got double-vision a few times, but Nate was strong enough to keep him moving even when his limbs refused to cooperate, and he was kind enough to not mention it.

“Where- where are we going?” MacCready realized he didn't recognize the street they were on, but if he was being honest with himself, it could likely just be because his head was still swimming.

“Diamond City.” Nate grunted as he took more of MacCready’s weight when he stumbled, helping him gain his feet again. “It's the closest.”

They staggered a few more blocks before MacCready recognized where they were, Diamond City’s walls looming ahead. They were nearly to the gate that signalled that they were entering the Diamond City Security area, when the shot rang out.

Droplets of blood flew through the air. Nate stiffened beside MacCready, back arching even as his knees gave out. MacCready tried to catch him, but they both tumbled to the cracked pavement. Someone shouted behind them, and MacCready spotted raiders racing towards them. Survivors from the gang.

“Boss.” MacCready gasped, grabbing Nate’s shoulder. Nate stifled a scream, fists clenched as he struggled to push himself up onto his elbows.

“What- what was _that_?!” Nate gasped out, wheezing. MacCready touched a bloodied hole on the back of Nate’s jacket with a shaking hand. Nate nearly gagged and pushed himself onto one elbow, and MacCready saw that the bullet had torn right through him, leaving an ugly exit wound near his collarbone that was nearly pouring blood. Nate collapsed, facedown. MacCready looked back at the approaching raiders, then towards the gate, just in time to see two Diamond City guards walk into view. 

“Hey! I need some help over here!” MacCready yelled. They looked annoyed, but they were thankfully engaging with the raiders. More shots rang out, making MacCready duck, throwing himself over Nate to shield him from more bullets. More Diamond City guards ran in, pushing the raiders back.

“Are you guys okay?” A guard kindly stopped to check on them. MacCready shakily sat back on his heels and tried to roll Nate onto his side, which proved more than he could handle with one hand. The crimson stain on the back of Nate’s jacket was growing at an alarming rate. 

“We- we need help. He's been shot.” MacCready wobbled dangerously, feeling like he could pass out at any second. “Doc Sun- he’ll know what to- it's Nate, he's the Sole-”

“Holy shit, it's the Sole Survivor.” The guard finally recognized Nate and picked up on what MacCready was trying to say, and turned to yell to the other guards who had already succeeded in driving off the raiders. “Hey, someone gimme a hand over here! We gotta get this guy to the Doc.”

A wave of relief washed over MacCready. They had made it. Doctor Sun would get Nate patched up and everything would be okay.

A couple of the guards bodily lifted Nate off the ground, eliciting a faint groan from the injured man, and hurried towards the city. MacCready tried to get to his feet to follow, but his knees weren't having any of it and deposited him back on the ground.

“Who’re you?” One of the guards asked, eyeing him where he sat on the ground. MacCready gritted his teeth, sensing an argument coming on.

“MacCready. Robert MacCready.” He gestured towards the guards hauling Nate away. “I travel with him.”

“No shit?” The guard looked interested but skeptical. “I heard he's a lone wolf.”

“Well, he changed his mind about that at least month ago.” MacCready suddenly wondered at that. It was true, Nate usually traipsed off on his own, but MacCready had been going with him on nearly every trip these last few weeks. What had changed his mind?

With these thoughts rattling around, MacCready made another attempt to get up and somehow managed it. It took a moment to get his balance, before he tried a tentative step on his injured knee. It hurt as much as he feared it would, and then some. He made it another couple steps before he distantly felt his eyes roll back in his head and everything went black.

***

Consciousness faded in and out. MacCready was pretty sure he was slung across someone's shoulders like a sack of tatos, and only vaguely remembered seeing the long stairwell up into the stands.

“Put him there.” He heard someone say, and then he was dumped on the ground. MacCready groaned at the jolt and managed to pry his eyes open. He was sitting mostly upright on the floor of Sun’s medical tent, propped up against the chemistry station. Doctor Sun himself was kneeling beside Nate, who was obviously still out cold on the floor.

Sun was working quickly, almost frantically. Dread coiled in MacCready’s gut.

“Is he gonna be okay?” MacCready croaked out, and was surprised by how rough his voice was. No one seemed to hear him. “Doc?”

Sun barked for Doctor Crocker, who hurried over with a few blood packs in hand.

“This is the last of what we have.” Crocker informed Sun. “I already checked with Solomon, he's out too.”

“It will have to do, then.” Sun said grimly. “We need to get this bleeding under control.”

MacCready went cold as a horrible thought occurred to him. Raiders normally didn't carry weapons any fancier that pipe level, with maybe a few low end modifications. However, he knew for fact that Nate had at least one rifle that caused significant trauma via bleeding damage.

MacCready knew that for fact because Nate always carried the rifle in his pack; the pack stolen by the raiders.

He could only watch helplessly as Sun and Crocker worked over Nate, unable to keep track of what they were injecting and stitching. Panic squeezed his chest, filled his brain with blind terror. He couldn't bring himself to hope that everything would be okay, couldn't think about what he would do if it wasn't okay.

Piper ran in, stopped dead when she saw Nate on the floor, her face going pale. When she spotted MacCready, she skirted the doctors working on their patient and knelt down to take his hand. He was pretty sure she said his name and asked something, but the roaring in his ears was drowning her out.

“We were so close…” he tried to say, but he wasn't sure if it came out right. Exhaustion weighed down his eyelids, his chin dipped towards his chest; someone jostled his arm, but it was all too easy to ignore and MacCready fell headfirst into the darkness.

He thought he remembered being moved, a bright light in his face, someone cursing, and his shoulder _burning_. Fire crackled in his veins, burning him up from the inside. Something blessedly cool was placed on his forehead and neck from time to time, but it wasn't enough. He knew someone was sitting beside him, but he could never see their face, wasn't sure if it was even the same person, a candle somehow dramatically changing lengths on a table nearby. He wasn't sure how long he was trapped in that place, caught between wakefulness and sleep, but unconsciousness eventually wrestled him under again. 

Consciousness came slowly. He could hear people, talking and calling and movement, but the sound was muffled as though coming through a wall. He was warm, almost overly so, a blanket of some sort wrapped around him and something soft under him. He could feel dried sweat all over, and he felt tired despite also feeling like he had been sleeping for ages. His eyes drifted open, but it took a moment before he registered his surroundings. Piper’s couch, inside Publick Occurrences. The sun was up, but he had no idea what time of day it was. He cautiously turned his head to look towards where he vaguely remembered seeing someone sitting, but only an empty chair sat beside him.

MacCready turned his head so he was looking at the ceiling again. His head felt like it was full of fog, a headache threatening behind his eyes. He was forgetting something, but what was it?

It all came rushing back at once. Blood flying through the air as a bullet tore a hole straight through Nate. Sun and Crocker working frantically over Nate, faces grim. There had been too much blood, and not enough to put back. MacCready squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the image of Nate’s pale, lifeless face.

Nate was gone, wasn't he? The Sole Survivor, traveling through over 200 years to battle his way into hell and back to save a son who didn't want to be saved, just to be laid low by a fu- freaking raider. And it was his fault. If MacCready hadn't been hurt, they would have been watching their backs better. This wouldn't have happened. It was too _soon_. MacCready remembered the conversation by the campfire they had the night they had retrieved the Prevent from Med-Tek, how Nate confessed that he was glad that they had been able to save Duncan at least, that he had helped make _some_ sort of difference for the future in this new life. MacCready could see the pain and regret on Nate’s face, plain as day, as he thought about Shaun and Nora and the life they had lost. At least Nate was with Nora, now, but where did that leave RJ MacCready? That bullet had blown a giant hole right through his life, and he wasn't sure where he could start to fix it.

“RJ?” A familiar voice startled him, making his eyes snap open and blink up at a vision. A grin spread across Nate’s face, eyes lighting up as he perched on the edge of the couch by MacCready’s hip. “You're awake! How're you feeling?”

MacCready didn't dare to move, even breathe, afraid he'd lose this moment. The Nate-hallucination frowned in concern, placing a hand on his forehead to check for fever and breaking the spell. This was real. Nate was actually here. 

“Are you okay? Maybe I should go get Sun…”

MacCready launched himself off the couch, the blanket falling off, arms wrapping around Nate in as strong of a hug as he could muster before he could stop himself.

“Whoa!” Nate was startled enough that he nearly fell off where he was sitting on the couch, but was quick to return the hug, wrapping his arms around MacCready’s trembling torso as he clung to him. MacCready only realized then that he was shirtless, and he wasn't sure of what the situation was below the rest of the blankets, but found he didn't care.

“I- I thought-” MacCready gasped, fighting to keep the lump out of his throat. “I thought you were dead! Don't _do_ that to me!”

“You were the one burning up with the fever to end all fevers! Of course you find the rustiest piece of metal in Boston to get stabbed with!” Nate retorted, squeezing him tighter. “Don't _you_ do that to me!”

MacCready couldn't stop the laugh that nearly choked him, relief threatening to bubble over. He still wasn't quite sure if he could believe it, but he felt _real_. He reluctantly loosened his grip on Nate, suddenly embarrassed by his outburst, and gratefully accepted the can of water that he was offered, drinking as much as he could without getting sick. Exhaustion hit him like a charging super mutant then, making him wobble a bit as his adrenaline crashed. Nate obviously saw, and helped him lay down again, pulling up the blanket.

“Thanks, boss.” MacCready yawned and shifted more comfortably, his eyelids already weighing down. He only realized he was clinging to Nate’s hand when Nate squeezed it. “Just gimme… few hours, and I'll be good to hit the road again.”

“We're gonna take more than that, RJ.” Nate reassured. “Your fever only just broke a couple hours ago. Piper’s letting us stay for a while, so get some sleep.”

MacCready made a noise of assent, already drifting off, but managed to rouse himself once more.

“Nate?” His hand was still in his, a comforting anchor. MacCready couldn't even bring himself to open his eyes again to see if Nate was listening; he was too comfortable and on the edge of sleep.

“Yeah, RJ?” Nate sounded exasperated but amused.

“Got something I wanna talk to you about.” MacCready confessed drowsily. “When I wake up. Don't let me forget.”

“I won't.” Nate promised. “Got something I need to say, too.”

“Mmm.” MacCready squeezed Nate’s hand. “We’re gonna be okay, boss.”

“Yeah.” Nate said. “We are.”

***


End file.
